Striving for Perfection

    As per the church-wide email I sent out this past week, I need your help this morning as we begin into this sermon.  I asked everyone to consider what a perfect congregation might look like.  What are its character traits?  What are the things it does?  If you would, please share some of your thoughts this morning.  Those of you who did not get this email, please, off the tops of your heads, share your thoughts about what character traits the “perfect” church has and what things such a church would do.

(Other notables from the first service responses: freedom to express one's view without judgement; people pray for each other [response from a 9 year old], people listen to the contributions of youth; outreach oriented; no quarreling)

    O.K. So, these are the character traits and actions that those of us who are gathered here this morning see in a perfect congregation.  There might be a few more that we could add, but let’s say that this indeed represents a perfect congregation.  Now, let me ask you this: if this represents a perfect congregation, are there such things as perfect congregations around?  Has there ever been a congregation which in actuality meets this vision?

    Did you say no?  I’d be flabbergasted if you said yes.  You and I know there is no such thing as a perfect church or a perfect congregation.  You and I know that sin pervades every aspect of our lives here on this planet and is inescapable.  You and I know perfection is an unattainable reality until we pass the threshold of death.  This is something we cognitively know.  And so I must ask, if we know that we cannot reach perfection, why do we have a vision of it?  Why does such a vision even exist?  I mean if we can’t attain it, why even bother to think about it?

    Last Sunday, our Gospel lesson began with these words from Matthew Chapter 5, Jesus said, “Unless your righteousness exceeds the righteousness of the scribes and the Pharisees, you will never enter the Kingdom of heaven.”  Jesus then shows what it means to be more righteous than the scribes and the Pharisees.  “You have heard it said to those of ancient times, you shall not murder.  But I tell you if you are angry with a brother or sister, you are liable to judgment...You have heard it said to those of ancient times you shall not commit adultery.  But I tell you if you look at a woman with lust in your heart you have committed adultery with her.  You have heard it said you may write a woman a certificate of divorce.  But I tell you if you divorce a woman you cause her to commit adultery and if you marry a woman who has been divorced you commit adultery.  You have heard it said do not swear falsely, but I say do not swear at all, by heaven, by earth, or by Jerusalem.  Let your word be yes, yes or no, no.  Anything else comes from the evil one.”

    Today, Jesus finishes out His sayings about true righteousness.  It doesn’t get any easier.  “You have heard it said an eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth, but I say if someone strikes you on the right cheek, offer them your left also.  Give your shirt as well as your cloak.  Go the extra mile.  You have heard it said you shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy, but I say love your enemy and bless those who persecute you so that you may be children of your Father in Heaven.  Be perfect even as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

    There you have it.  This is true righteousness.  Perfection.  Just as God is perfect, you be perfect as well.  This concludes Jesus’ vision of what it means to be truly righteous.  As I said last time, true righteousness consists of having one’s heart in complete and total alignment with God’s heart.  True righteousness is a heart condition for out of one’s heart comes anger and lust and failure to commit and fear of saying simply yes, yes or no, no.  Out of the heart comes the desire for revenge and retribution.  Out of the heart comes the desire to hate one’s enemy.  Only a changed heart can defeat such things.  Only a heart that is completely and totally oriented toward God and toward what is good can accomplish what Jesus says in this Sermon on the Mount.

    And as I said last Sunday, so I say again.  We cannot do it.  We cannot willingly make ourselves good.  There is a part of us which seeks our own self-interest.  There is a part of us which continually seeks to take care of our own selves and those closest to us at the expense of others.  There is a part of us which puts our own ego; our own righteousness over others and sees others as less than us.  This part is constantly in rebellion against God and is constantly unleashing all those things Jesus warns us against.

    You know this.  You see it all the time.  You participate in it.  We all do.  None of us can escape it.  So if this is the case...  If we know we continue to have these things come out of our hearts despite our best efforts...  If indeed our righteousness cannot ever exceed the righteousness of the Scribes and the Pharisees and then therefore we cannot ever enter the Kingdom of heaven...then what’s the point?  If we cannot achieve perfection, then why does Jesus set it as the goal?

    I think there are at least two very good reasons for this.  The first reason is one I have articulated before, and it comes from sports.  The record holder for the highest career batting average is held by Ty Cobb.  His career batting average was, get this .366.  This meant, he got a hit generally 1 out of every three times he came to bat.  Mind you, he didn’t hit a home run every time he came to the plate–even though that would be the ideal.  He didn’t get on base every time he came to the plate to bat–even that would have been awesome.  He didn’t even get on base half the time he came to bat.  36% of the time he came to bat, he got on base.  And he’s in the baseball Hall of Fame.  Can you imagine giving a child a pat on the back for making a 36 on a test?  Yet, that’s what folks did with Ty Cobb.  They applauded him for his efforts.

    Now, do you think Ty became disgusted with the way he played by batting .366 for his career?  Do you think he became disgusted with himself because he couldn’t hit a home run every time he came up to bat?  Do you think he thought of quitting baseball because he wasn’t able to get on base every time he went to the plate to face a pitcher?  No.  Of course he didn’t because there was always the chance to hit the home run.  There was always the chance of achieving a little piece of perfection.  There was the goal, dangling out there begging to be reached.  Generally, we can approach humankind in a couple of fashions.  We can set the bar low, and believe me, folks will reach it and then stop.  Or, we can set the bar high and just see how close people come to reaching it.  One of these ways will unlock greater potential.  One of them won’t.  I’ll let you decide.

    The other reason for setting perfection as a goal is a little different.  It isn’t about unleashing potential–it’s about keeping a person humble.  You see, if God is the only one who can be perfect, and perfection is the only way to achieve true righteousness–true holiness, then I can never be holy on my own.  I can never be righteous on my own.  I will never reach the pinnacle of perfection.   Every time I try to reach it, I will fail.  By my own efforts I can never achieve it.  If I realize this, where does this leave me?  Where do I end up if I know I cannot achieve what is required of me?  Well, I will probably give up.  If it is something I want badly enough, I will probably get depressed and angry.  I will probably shake my fist and have tears well up in my eyes because I cannot get what I desire so badly.  And then I resign myself to my failure.  At this point, and only at this point am I willing to acknowledge my need for help.  At this point, God usually reveals to us something wonderful:

    For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that all those who believe in Him should not perish but have eternal life.  For God sent the Son into the world not to condemn the world, but so that the world may be saved through Him.

    My achieving righteousness does not depend upon my work but on God’s work.  My holiness does not come about because I am superhumanly good, but it comes about because Christ is superhumanly good.  My salvation depends not on my righteousness but on Christ’s righteousness.  Only in my humility can I recognize this. 

    When perfection is the goal, when the bar is set high, we reach for it and are challenged by it.  When perfection is the goal, we are humbled by it and recognize our need for grace.  We may never be perfect people.  We may never be a perfect congregation, but we need that vision before us to challenge us, to humble us, and to help us live God’s Word daily. Amen.

Yes, I Still Care

As I reflected about my post last week: Who Cares?, I began to wonder if I didn't overstep my bounds.  Some may see this post as an attempt to cover my tail, and in some ways perhaps it is.  But I think I need to add these words to further define my role/a pastor's role in caring for members in a congregation.

My entire goal in the previous post was to encourage all members within congregations to care for one another and not view such care as exclusive to the pastor/clergy.   Jesus didn't say, "Clergy members are to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, and visit the sick and imprisoned."  (paraphrasing the end result of Matthew 25)  Not at all.  Jesus called all of His followers to do such things.

Clergy are not singled out nor exempted.

Which means that I believe clergy are indeed called to model and equip others on how to care for one another in a congregational setting.

• This means clergy/I should/will continue to visit the sick.
• This means clergy/I should/will continue to counsel people when in need.
• This means clergy/I should/will continue to check on people who are undergoing long-term treatments.
• This means clergy/I should/will continue to be with families who lose a loved one and endure the grief process.
• This means clergy/I should/will continue to receive and make phone calls when a need arises.

I do not believe clergy/I are/am ever exempted from doing these things.  Whenever clergy cease to interact with people--real people who inhabit the church pews/seats on Sunday morning, then I think they become more CEO, executive types.   Now, such types may be necessary in mega-churches, but I have my doubts.

I think one can still head a large organization and still have plenty of personal contact with those in need.

I hope no one viewed my post as an attempt to say, "I don't need to care."  Far be it from that.  In reality, it was a desire to expand the view and show that the responsibility for care falls not on one but upon all.

Who Cares?

It is a question I think we as clergy and as congregations need to wrestle with more deeply: who cares?

Who cares, indeed?

In many congregations, it is assumed that the primary caregiver for people is the pastor.  When people are troubled, they go to the pastor.  When people are having surgery or they end up in the hospital, the pastor is supposed to visit.  When someone loses a loved one, the pastor is there at the death, at the funeral preparation, calls numerous times afterward, and checks in on important dates: Christmas, Easter, a year after the death.  When a member has cancer, the pastor is supposed to call, text, write, email on a regular basis to check in.  If  someone misses church a couple Sundays in a row, the pastor should call upon that person to see what is going on.  And the list goes on.

Mind you, this isn't a bad thing.  I am not trying to get into a bad versus good argument over this, but what I would like to suggest is a good versus better approach.

In the above scenario, the pastor basically functions as a congregation's chaplain offering care and concern for his/her members.  This works pretty well for smaller congregations, but as congregation's grow, problems occur, mainly: the pastor is simply incapable of caring for so many people.  More and more things pile up.  More and more people have need.  The calendar becomes overwhelmed, and, even worse, the pastor becomes emotionally overwhelmed.  With so many people to care for with so many varied issues and difficulties, the pastor eventually hits emotional overload--no matter how good he or she is with caring for him/herself.

And even in smaller congregations, while this works, I am not convinced it is the best model of care and concern.  Why?

Generally this: in those congregations, the pastor becomes the "glue" that holds the congregation together.  People have a relationship with the pastor, but not necessarily with one another.  And that brings me to an important point: what happens to that congregation should the pastor take another call or retire?  If he/she is the glue that holds things together, what happens when the glue is gone?  The results aren't necessarily pretty.  In fact, you will see many congregations experience a drop in worship attendance and giving when the pastor leaves.  This is not the healthiest thing in my estimation.

So, what model might be better?

First of all, I think there are some things that clergy must keep in mind and practice and then things congregations should keep in mind and practice.

First, I think those of us who are clergy need to remember our job is not to bind a congregation together by having people have a relationship with us.  Far from it.  I believe our job is to help people connect with God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  Sure, it's nice to get strokes when people tell us how much they appreciate us and like us.  It's nice to hear, "I am so thankful for all that you have done."  To a person who generally cares for others, these things touch a soul very deeply.  However, if people are simply enjoying their relationship with you, are they growing in their walks of faith?  Are they coming in contact with the God who works through you?  That is another question entirely, and it is one I wrestle with constantly.  As much as I like to be liked, I have become convinced that people don't need a relationship with me nearly as much as they need a relationship with Christ.  He alone brings the peace that passes all understanding.  He alone brings healing.  He alone brings transformation.  If folks are not experiencing such things, perhaps it is because we are in the way.

Second, I think a much better model for congregations to follow is care and concern for each other.  When a pastor cares for members, one person essentially is the care giver.  When people care for one another, well, that's a whole other ball of wax--a very powerful ball of wax.  Suddenly, it's not the pastor alone who is showing compassion, concern, and mercy--to those he or she agrees and doesn't agree with--instead, a whole body of people begin to care about one another--they truly have compassion, concern, and mercy for one another.  Suddenly, it's not one person alone trying to model the love of God for others, it's an entire group of people; and while God can certainly make a difference with one person, He can reach more people through the acts of others.

Furthermore, when people genuinely care for each other, the pastor no longer becomes the bonding mechanism for a congregation.  People's relationship with God and with each other form that bond.  Ideally, when the pastor leaves or retires, not much changes because the compassion and care is not dependent upon the pastor--it's shown with or without him/her.

When people show such care and concern for each other, no one feels left out.  No one feels isolated.  No one feels demeaned or unimportant.  A congregation might hold a belief or policy that people do not agree with, but because of the love that people show towards one another, such things do not take on the utmost importance.

I am convinced that when people care for one another and are not dependent upon the pastor for such care, great things happen in congregations.

Who cares about such things?

I do.  For I long to see congregations thriving and showing God's love--sharing the Gospel because they know the difference a relationship with Christ can bring.  I long to see congregations thriving in a culture which a times is openly hostile to public faith.  I long to see congregations full of joy and hope and people who smile and laugh with one another.

I simply cannot make people do these things.

All I can and will do is preach the Good News and hope that Christ transforms communities into such places of care and compassion.

It's Hard to Get My Head Around This

The last two days have been quite the whirl wind.  I have been training and working with a new addition to our congregation's staff: a part time youth director.

Sometimes, I have a hard time getting my head around this fact.

When I first started serving this congregation nine years ago, we had a baptized membership of 189.  Our average worship attendance was 65.  Most would have not considered it a viable congregation--at least not for a full time clergy.  Most would have considered it needing to be yoked to another church in a dual point parish.

Yet, the people here had a sense of call about them.  They rejected any such notions and wanted a full time pastor.  Not only this, they had discerned a call to add a part-time secretary--something they had never had in their history.

I came on board, and within a few months, we hired a secretary.  Life was good.

I arrived in Cat Spring from a large congregation in Seguin.  My previous congregation had nearly 1400 members, and the work load was intense.  I generally was up at the church 4 nights per week.  Sometimes, the meetings were grueling lasting two and a half to three hours.  After four years there, I was tired, worn out, ready for a change.

Coming to Cat Spring was very, very different.  There were hardly any meetings at all!   There wasn't a full staff.  But things were getting done, and getting done in a big way.

Congregational growth has been tremendous.  In those nine years, our membership has more than doubled to 430.  Our average worship attendance hovers at 120.  Of course, if we weeded out the "summer slump" we would be at 140-150.   Offerings are steady and very good.  People do things--good things on a consistent basis--without having meeting after meeting after meeting.

As the congregation has grown, we have consistently added staff.  First, the secretary.  Then, a worship and music director.  Then, came the leap of faith last year.  The congregation decided to seek a part-time youth director.  We budgeted for the position in the annual meeting, sent out advertizements, prayed, and waited.

Last week, the position was filled, and I woke up Monday, the head of a staffed congregation.

Now, at this point, there are some pastors who would begin telling you, "If you want your church and congregation to do the same thing, then here is what you need to do..."  I'm not going to do that because I really don't know what technique to use to make any church grow.  I really don't.  I don't know the magic pill to make a congregation take off and grow like gang busters.

Too often, I think our congregations become obsessed with a theology of glory--a proverbial step by step plan that leads to growing attendance, offerings, and participation.  If you do this, then you will be blessed by growth.   If you follow the Lord just right, then He will add numbers to your congregation.

Problem is--I've seen numerous congregations strive to follow the right steps and still experience no growth.  I've seen congregations throw out the welcome mat, make people feel warm and fuzzy, have all sorts of programming geared toward children, youth, young adult, middle-aged, and elderly; congregations who incorporate traditional and contemporary music; who become more conservative and more liberal, and nothing works.

I don't believe there is a secret formula to church growth or participation.  I think much of it, like salvation, rests upon God's work upon the individual believer.  I think much of it, like salvation, involves God's Spirit delving into the hearts and minds of people inspiring them to become a community of compassionate, caring, generous individuals who seek to do His will in the things they say and do.  I think church growth revolves around God's action and not our own.  Of course, we Lutherans proudly proclaim this to be Word, Sacrament, and the mutual conversation and consolation of the believers.  

I do not know what the final outcome will be as this congregation moves into the realm of a staffed congregation.  This congregation has never been there before.  Sometimes such a move is met with tons of blessings.  Sometimes, it so shakes the dynamics of the church that the opposite takes place.  We are dealing with an institution made up of humans, after all.  Yet, I keep reminding myself that it's not totally up to me.  It's not totally up to my secretary or my music director or my youth director.  Heck it's not totally up to the congregation members.  For without God, we could do nothing.  He makes the whole thing work, and if He needs me to lead a staff here at this church, I submit to His will.

I just have a hard time getting my head around it.